


Unfinished and, Frankly, Unneeded

by clueless_nameless



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Older Frisk, Other, Romance, if reader is frisk i'll state it before hand, literally just me making myself happy, place for me to put what may never get finished, reader is not usually frisk
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-05
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-09 10:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12274623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clueless_nameless/pseuds/clueless_nameless
Summary: “Uhm, Sans?” You questioned, your voice wavering slightly, “How do monsters have sex?”Just a collection of unfinished short stories I wrote. Some may get part two's or three's if the inspiration arises, but it's unlikely.





	1. Curiosity Killed the Cat

“Uhm, Sans?” You questioned, your voice wavering slightly.

He turned around quickly, a sheet of cookie clutched in his mitted hands and a worried look on his face. Normally you’d bashfully think about how cute he was and maybe you’d give a little teasing comment if only to make him blush, but right now? Well you had more pressing matters on your mind.

“How do monsters have sex?”

You flinched as the sheet of cookies fell unceremoniously to the ground, but the look on his face goaded you further.

“I mean, I know how humans have sex, and I know all that, but monsters are so different, how do they do anything like that?” God, this was so entertaining, you could see the slight blue flush on his cheekbones and the perspiration that had gather on the top of his skull.

You took a step forward and when he didn’t back up you took it as a good sign. Before you could close the distance between the two of you he had leapt into action once more, spinning wildly before scooping up the discarded tray of cookies and placing them gently on the counter then moving to go do some other mundane task.

“Sans, is that a bad question?”

He turned to face you slowly, “er, nah, not bad, just, er, unexpected.”

He seemed to be attempting to collect himself and took a deep breath before asking a simple question you hadn’t entirely been expecting, “why?”

“Eh? Uh… I…” You paused and chewed your lip thoughtfully, “because I… well… I had a thought… and uhm…”

Oh god, good god, shit, this was embarrassing, how could you say ‘I had a dream about you and wanted to know if it was possible’ without it being… weird?

He drank your embarrassment and smirked—it seemed he was finally back in the game. “Geez, kid, I didn’t know you wanted to jump my bones so badly.”

You chuckled weakly because honestly, you did, you did want to, you weren’t sure how it worked, you’d never done anything of the sort.

You felt like you were about to have a bad time—but you didn’t mind _at all._


	2. Start of Sin Pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hoo boy i am a mess. more sans/reader but this time a little bit more

The two of you lay beside each other, face to face, his arms wrapped tenderly around your waist and hips and your hands trailing gentle touches along his ribs. He wasn’t moving, his eyes were closed and his face flushed with pleasure, he just wanted to enjoy this moment here and now. It’d been a month since all of the drama from before had subsided, the situation finally resolved, and now he had you all to himself.

Sure, he’d been a little bit angry at first, then a whole lot of worried, but now he was just relieved to have you here with him.

He was also feeling a little bit of something else. Something, er, that he wasn’t exactly used to feeling.

Magic was such a strange thing, even he, who had spent a good many years studying it, couldn’t explain it fully. Nor could he explain souls or the bodily functions of monsters. He knew, however, that the skeleton species of monster was more humanoid than many of the other kinds of monsters and… as part of that… had many of the same physical reactions to certain situations.

So when you’d laid beside him and slept with his arms pulling you tightly into him, and yes, your butt had been pressed so comfortably up against his pelvic bone. Well, he couldn’t exactly control these sort of things.

And so here the two of you were, your cuddling this morning turning into something a little more intimate.

If he was honest, he’d thought about this a lot of times. He’d thought about this probably too many times to be considered normal. Oh, but the feeling of your fingers ever so lightly tracing paths across his ribs and the softness of your skin. God.

You smiled at him sweetly when he finally opened his eyes and placed a small kiss on his forehead. Sure, you’d been a little surprised at the extra pressure you’d felt against your butt this morning while you’d been spooning with Sans, but that surprise had quickly turned into arousal and you’d tried not to be too teasing when you ever so nonchalantly asked him about it.

His reaction had been… hilarious, to say the least. Well, it had been, until he realized you weren’t disgusted but rather were a bit _too_ interested in what was hiding beneath his shorts.

He leaned forward and nuzzled against your face.

“can we? er, can i? uh… ah, i’m not good at this.” His face was flushed blue but you saw an unexpected hunger in his eyes.

Feeling bold you sat up, pushed him onto his back, and swung your leg over to straddle him. You could feel his bulge rest squarely against the roundness of your ass and wiggled a bit.

You were so much smaller than him, this wasn’t good, but you were determined.

Your legs strained from holding you up as you leaned down to the now sweating Sans. He reached forward to meet your lips.

 

...


	3. When I go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> angst reader/sans
> 
> (i also love the song in the title, it's by slow club. u should listen to it.)

“Will you hold my hand when I go?”

“w-what?”

“Will you?”

“where ya headin’ off to, kid?”

“When I die, I mean.” You sighed, laying back against the bed.

_Why were you asking this?_

Sans didn’t understand.

 _Death?_ He'd seen enough death in his lifetime.

Besides, you were so young, as far as he knew.

“listen… where is this coming from?”

You ignored him, “why do you like me? I’m squishy and soft and fragile.”

He tried to speak; he opened his mouth, ready to protest, but your next words made his own dry up.

“I’ll die. I’ll leave you behind.” You paused, swallowing thickly, tears in your eyes.

He was at a loss. In all his years, he had never been at such a loss.

In all his year, though, he'd never been so in love, either.

“You’re practically immortal, and what am I? A human. My lifetime will be over in the blink of an eye and you’ll move on and then what? Nothing. I am gone.”

He hesitated for only a second before moving onto the bed and laying next to you.

You were silently crying now, tears working their way down your face to land on the bed. 

You were beautiful even when you cried, he couldn't help but notice.

“h-hey… t-that’s years away. this time. this time right now is what matters.”


	4. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jealousy.
> 
> reader is frisk in this story.
> 
> if that bothers you, then skip it please.

Your hands shook as you wiped sweat from your brow. It was almost Christmas and most college students were on break. Normally this wouldn’t be so bad, and maybe on another day you’d actually join in on the fun. Have a couple drinks… maybe try to flirt a little bit, there were a few cute monsters and humans alike in the bar.

To your disappointment though you could not go have a shot or two and giggle and dance and weave your way around the crowd.

You were working. Which, come to think of it, really was a blessing. On Grillby’s request you’d started to work at his new restaurant and bar. You’d always had a soft spot for the flickering flamesman and you quickly agreed.

The work was fun, if you were honest. You, who had so much trouble talking to people, had found a suitable in between. It was easy to serve people drinks or food, share a smile and a laugh, and partake in easy small talk. There was no pressure to be interested in their lives, nor they in yours. You didn’t have to worry about making a good impression because… well… delivering food to hungry patrons was the _best_ impression to make.

All in all, you quite liked your job. The atmosphere of the place was warm and easy, regulars and newcomers alike coming together to share a few drinks and a few stories.

It was days like these that you felt most at peace. There you were, dressed in a uniform similar to Grillby’s own, hair cropped short and pushed behind your ears. You liked the way the vest fit, hugging to your waist but not making you uncomfortable. Some days you wore black dress pants, other days you work a skirt to go with the uniform. It was whatever the moment called for, whatever struck you as the most comfortable.

You swiped up the rag you’d been using to clean the bar top off and meandered over to where a rowdy guest had spilled his drink. He seemed to be of the kind of monster that your friend, Aaron, was. Some sort of horse and seahorse combination, glasses and smarmy smile to match the muscle tee he wore.

You weren’t fond of his type of monster, for whatever reason many of them were similar in demeanor. Maybe it was because that’s what the world expected of the “douche-bag” type appearance, or maybe that was just because… well… that’s _who_ they were.

Either way, he had made a mess and you, being the bartender at that time, needed to clean it.

As expected his snide comments were instantaneous, though maybe not as vulgar as you’d expected, “Lookin’ good in that uniform, Frisky, you’d look even better outa it.” The wink he gave was large and over exaggerated. If you hadn’t been so put off by the dumb pickup line you might have laughed at his theatrics. As it was, you just gave a soft smile and wiped casually at the spill he’d made.

“Hey, Frisky—“ his voice was singsong now, “why ya playin’ hard to get?” You started to walk away, mouth pushed into a line, but before you could get far a hand shot out and gripped your elbow. You turned quickly, eyes pushed wide in surprise. He had a playful smirk plastered on his face, his cheeks a bit red, maybe from the drinks, maybe from his… improper… intentions.

You grimaced and tried to pull yourself from his grip, but he tugged you closer until you were near leaning over the bar’s counter.

“Hey, dude, chill out, k?” The voice came from a rather frail looking rabbit-like creature. His green sweater, oversized and old. Its cuteness minimized his attempt at being gruff and threatening. But, apparently it had enough of an effect for him to remove his hand from your elbow.

With a loud huff of annoyance, he turned back to his drink.

“T-thank you,” you whispered, not making eye contact. Your face was tinted red from… embarrassment perhaps? Maybe just from the heat of the bar and the stress of the moment.

“S’no problem, uh… Frisk, was it?” You nodded.

“U-uhm, I… I don’t mean to be a creep like… uhm” he jerked his head in the direction of the monster who was now chatting up some other poor unsuspecting girl, “but, uh, you… well, I mean, I’ve been here a few times and uh, I think, uh, if, uh”

You cocked your head to the side in curiosity, mouth slightly agape. The expression seemed to make the poor creature before you turn into even more of a flustered mess. You weren’t understanding him, and as though trying to sooth him, you slowly reached out over the counter and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Sans was watching. He always came to Grillby’s at night, though maybe because he was always so quiet, or maybe because he never once ordered a drink when you were working the bar, you never noticed his presence. Sometimes you could feel it, but when you’d look around he wasn’t actually there.

He had been planning on going up and interrupting when it seemed the problem had taken care of itself. He grumbled to himself, sipping casually on the ketchup bottle clenched in his fist. You were too naïve and trusting of these patrons. Always too nice to stand up for yourself and instead just letting things happen. It’s part of the reason why he’d taken to coming in when you were working.

It was hard, he’d noticed the way that people looked at you. He noticed the way he often found himself watching you, a tenderness in his eyes and soul that was something he’d never really felt before. You were spunky, quiet, cute… your headstrong personality and stubbornness was both endearing and irritating, especially when it was you refusing to do something he had asked of you.

He didn’t like the way people stared… it was too predatory, too wanting. Those secretive glances held dark intentions. And you, that soft smile, quite politeness, kind aura, you didn’t help at all. They either thought you were too innocent to understand and for some reason that spurred them on more, or they viewed you as a challenge, like you were ‘playing hard to get’. It made his nonexistent gut squirm.

He couldn’t describe the feeling, either. Like anger, but more venomous and less hot. Like hatred but tainted with love. It made him uncomfortable, it made him unhappy. He didn’t like the feeling.

He also didn’t like the calming hand you’d placed on that rabbit’s shoulder, nor the sweet smile you shot at him. Sans could feel the emotion wash over him once more, this unnamed and unhappy emotion.

Before he could stop himself he was up and heading toward the two of you with a half formed plan and a too-easy grin on his face.


	5. Ambassador

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> older frisk, unrequited love, reader is frisk. frisk works as ambassador. female frisk.
> 
> Edited: 1/7/2019
> 
> *** Will be posted again separately from here with additional parts.

Working as an ambassador was difficult. Who had the bright idea of choosing a little girl to be the forefront representor of an entire race?

Although, you weren’t much of a little girl anymore. Not that many people could tell, what, with your short stature, the little bit of chub that situated on your belly and kept your face looking young, added to the fact that you were always so quiet. Your habit of wearing clothes that were too big also weren’t of much of an indicated of age—if anything they just helped with the idea that you were merely a teen when in fact you were already nearing the age of 21.

Your hair was short, cut into an a-line, and it was just a little bit curled. Normally, you didn’t like to dress up, but today was not your average day. You had important meetings to attend to. You had so much work to do in other countries just to assure that the monster-relocation went well. So, of course you had to look professional and of course you were dressed up.

You almost wished Sans could see you right now. Hah. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

The thought made you pout as you smoothed out your thin black dress. It clung to your hips and accentuated the curves you’d gained from aging. You had on a matching black cardigan to help keep you warm in case the meeting room was overly air-conditioned.

You really did wish he could see you now. You weren’t so much a child as you were the last time he’d seen you, plus it’d been so long since you’d even talked to him. Part of that was your fault, part of it was his. The two of you, for some reason, had just fallen apart. It didn’t mean you hadn’t stopped thinking about him—it seemed this was one crush that wouldn’t go away.

Although… you really wished it would… he had all but turned you down last time you brought up your feelings to him.

You sighed, pushing your hair out of your face. You studied yourself in the floor-length mirror once more. Since you were so short you opted to wear some daring black heels, they gave you a couple more inches in height. For some reason, they made you feel powerful. They made you feel sexy. It was like an instant confidence boost. One last look in the mirror and a glance over your notes made you feel ready to face the crowd.

It was show-time.

The meeting went by fairly quickly, or maybe it just felt that way to you. It was somewhat crazy that the past four years of your life you’d been shuttled from bus to plane to plane to bus all over the world in order to talk with different dignitaries and officials and so many people with so many titles that it only made your head spin. Sometimes Asgore, the old king, would travel with you, and other times you’d only take some of the more “people-friendly” monsters—or at least the ones that were more aesthetically pleasing.

However, you were grateful that this wild adventure was finally coming to a close. You’d spent the first six years of your life working from the safety and comfort of Toriel’s home and the next four years working out and about amongst the people that the monsters would hopefully be able to coexist with.

You had one last flight until you were home. You couldn’t be more excited if you had tried. Two hours and you could be wrapped into one of Toriel’s hugs and hear Papyrus’ gleeful face, and hear the cute Alphys gush over her favorite TV show and smile at Undyne’s aggressive but funny antics. The only person you weren’t exactly excited to see was Sans. Even the thought made your heart stutter to a stop.

Why had you told him your feelings? It was so dumb. He’d known you for so long, it was just plain dumb of you to think he’d actually view you as anything more than just a child.

The flight was quick, or it felt quick considering you had slept through most of it.

* * *

 

_“Sans… I uh… I want to talk to you.”_

_It was Christmas, you had just turned sixteen a week ago, you were preparing to leave the next day. You’d rehearsed it so many times, as though you could figure out the perfect words to say that would get him to like you in return. You hoped he didn’t see you as just a silly teenager with a silly crush._

_He didn’t stop to question you, only sparing you a curious glance before nodding and moving to follow you. You wanted to go on a walk, but that was soon declined: he said it was too cold._

_You frowned, already things weren’t going to plan. Still, you acquiesced and instead stayed inside. The two of you sat on the sofa in the bonus room. You could hear the faint laughter and sounds of the gathering in the other room._

_It made you even more nervous. He could probably tell._

_“Sans… I uh… I know… well I mean I know we’ve known each other for a long time.”_

_He nodded, his ever-present smirk making your face grow hot. You felt so stupid and you hadn’t even told him yet. He probably already knew what you were going to say._

_“And I really enjoy, like, you know, you. I mean, I enjoy your company. And—” you took a breath, “SansIreallylikeyoualotmorethanIthinkIshould” it came out as a tumble of words, nothing like what you’d carefully scripted. Shit. Now you just sounded like more of a child, “I mean, shit, well, Sans, I… I like you a lot, okay?”_

_He only looked confused, and a bit wary._

_Your heart was thumping wildly in your chest and your face was bright red._

_He opened his mouth to reply and you quickly looked away, afraid of what answer you’d find on his face, “well, frisk, you already know that pap and i adore you. and i’m already aware you like me, otherwise we wouldn’t be friends, yeah?”_

_Cold. You felt cold. And, he laughed awkwardly, as though he could smooth over your messy confession with feigned-obliviousness._

_Your heart was already beginning to hurt, “N-no, Sans… that’s not what I meant and you know it.” You whined. You felt embarrassed—embarrassed both for the childishness in your voice and the fact that he so easily brushed away your feelings._

_Sans only shrugged, looking more uncomfortable, “not sure i get what you mean, frisk.”_

_His eyes which normally portrayed so much emotion were blank and unreadable. You hesitantly reached out a hand and grabbed his hand. He didn’t jerk it away like you thought he would. It made you bold._

_“This is what I mean,” and you leaned forward, forward and upward and tilting your head--he waited at first, unsure of how to respond to your sudden proximity._

_Then, he turned his head._

_You kissed his cheek._

_He pushed you away, “k-kid, wait.”_

_Oh._

_Of course._

_You should have figured._

_You were just a child in his eyes._

_You’d always only ever be a child._

_“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, that was dumb.”_

_And then you left._

* * *

 

It’d been years and you still felt nervous about it? God, you felt like a fool. It was one night. Couldn’t you just move on?

You’d had boyfriends and girlfriends alike before and after the incident. You’d always been shy, but it didn’t mean you couldn’t score a few dates now and then. Even you and Monster Kid had gone on a few, that was after Sans’ rejection, though, when you’d flown to your first conference abroad. Monster Kid had come with you to support you and keep you company. The little relationship didn’t last very long, though.

But now you were back. You couldn’t help but be nervous as you walked toward the arrivals gate, rolling luggage in hand. The airport was bustling, people and monsters alike hurrying to their destinations. Briefly, you considered stopping to get a coffee before you met whoever was picking you up. Afterall, you weren’t even sure anyone was here yet—you’d received no text, no calls, no nothing asking where you were at or if you had landed yet.

Still, you didn’t want to make them wait, just in case. So you hurried outside, coffeeless.

Your eyes were drawn to him instantly. Sans. In the not-flesh. He was leaning against a black car, idly texting with one hand while he played with the zipper of his characteristic blue hoodie with the other. He noticed you quickly, his smile faltering for a moment as he took your appearance in.

Your hands were shaking, already you were nervous. This dumb skeleton’s existence made you so insecure sometimes. But you knew you looked good, and you knew it wouldn’t be hard to fake some sort of confidence. So, with much more swagger than you currently had, you made your way over to him, a light smile playing on your lips.

He made eye contact once then quickly looked away, seeming flustered, or maybe it was just wistful thinking? Either way, it encouraged you.

“No entourage?” You had to admit you were disappointed. Actually, you were a lot more than disappointed. Not only did you have to hang with the very person you’d been hoping to avoid, but you also didn’t get to have the meet and greet you’d been waiting for. You were just wanting to see your friends and family again.

He shrugged, “no luck, ki—” he paused, “they’re back home, frisk. you’ll see them soon.” He took your luggage and put it in the back. You quickly slid into the passenger seat.

“I was hoping…” You trailed off, unsure of how to say it without being rude.

“that they’d pick you up?” He finished, noticing your wince.

“N-not exactly…” You bit your lip, and looked down at your hands in your lap. Your dress was riding up, exposing more of your thighs than you cared to. You attempted to pull it down, not noticing his glances in your direction as he drove.

The ride was quiet, he gripped the steering wheel with such intensity you almost thought he might just pull it right off the dash. He made no effort to chat and you stared straight ahead, allowing the silence to draw on.

Finally, you spoke again, “It’s a bit tense, no? Look Sans, I’m sorry I was a bit weird… before… you know… I left… I just hope we can be friends.”

“it’s fine?” you hated the tone he was using, “i’m not even sure i know what you’re talking ‘bout…”

Again, you felt like you’d been punched in the gut. He sure knew how to make you feel like shit real quick. He could have been lying, but you figured it’d be just like you to be the only one to remember and stew over such a small but embarrassing moment. Obviously, you’d been reading too much into everything.

The drive was fairly quiet after that, aside from the sound of the stereo and your light humming in tune with it. Even you who was flustered, embarrassed and a fair bit more than just “hurt” at the moment couldn’t resist singing along to music. It was your one comfort in life.

Whenever you had a particularly bad anxiety attack or nightmare you’d always turned on music and just listened to it until you managed to fall asleep. It used to have been that Sans would sit with you and stroke your hair until you calmed down, but you hadn’t had that luxury when you went abroad, and you weren’t even sure he’d want to do that for you anyways.

You felt another pang of regret, as the car pulled into a driveway. You got out quickly, not bothering to spare him a second glance, although you could feel his eyes on your retreating form. You left the baggage for him to carry in. Served him right, anyway, for always making you so confused.


End file.
